


Bend Me, Break Me, Make Me Anew

by D20Owlbear



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [14]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale "o'erthrow"s Crowley, Aziraphale DOES restrain Crowley (with his hands), Aziraphale flips the table on Crowley, Clothed Sex, Crowley begs for it, Edging, M/M, POV Crowley (Good Omens), PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ripping Clothing, Strength Kink, With Pleasure, an angel of many talents, and fucks him, and then plucks off all the buttons of his shirt, and then rips his leather trousers to get at him, it's all Crowley's so it barely counts, so yanno, then bends him over a table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28495176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: 8/12 Days of Blasphemy 2020“That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend / Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.” (Divine Meditations 14; John Donne)Crowley crowds Aziraphale up against a bookshelf in his study. Aziraphale is more then happy to turn the tables and bend Crowley over one instead.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570819
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy 2020, Top Aziraphale Recs





	Bend Me, Break Me, Make Me Anew

**Author's Note:**

> If you know me you can tell me about a typo or something confusing!
> 
> (Aziraphale quotes, about halfway through, the last half of Holy Sonnet 14 by John Donne, which this prompt was taken from)

"Now really…" Aziraphale harrumphed at the position they were in now. Crowley only smiled, pressed up against Aziraphale's back as he was, his angel's arms held between them by clawed, demonic hands, and his cherubic face shoved into the side of a bookshelf. They'd been playing around, recently, with their various strengths and who might overpower whom, and all sorts of lovely little stories to go along with it. Half the time reliving some old situations-turned-fantasies they weren't able to act on previously and the other half inventing new ones that sounded fun.

Even more recently, Crowley had delighted in taking the role of the "bad guy" in scenarios tailored to have Aziraphale choose a sexual option over others. It was fun and they played in such a way that it never scratched at the old hurt of _actually being_ the bad guy in ways that wasn't fun for the both of them. Having pre-arranged code-words certainly helped that confidence, and sooner or later Crowley was going to have to float the idea of Aziraphale playing damsel in distress so Crowley might try out saving him like a Bond movie…

In his inattentiveness, Crowley was caught off guard and he yelped ungracefully when Aziraphale pushed him back and freed his hands from Crowley's grip. Well… _that_ was new. They wrestled about a little, but usually whoever initiated was the one who came out on top, a bit of an unspoken rule Crowley hadn't realized they'd been adhering to until it was broken. Not that it _had_ to go that way, of course, it just was unexpected, that's all.

Crowley tripped over his own heel and fell backwards onto his arse, catching himself with his hands so at least he wasn't _entirely_ prone. He looked up and couldn't help the way his tongue flickered out to taste the air in response to the intense look Aziraphale was pinning him with, and feeling not unlike a butterfly on a cork board.

"Yes, really," Crowley mocked, pulling a few faces at Aziraphale to cover his scramble back until he had a wall he could stand himself up against. He knew that look in Aziraphale's eye! That was his "oh, I'll never admit it, dear boy, but I'm rather peeved about the _audacity_ " look, and one Crowley strove to fall just short of with his antics (as just short of it was the "oh, I'll never admit it, dear boy, but I'm rather pleased about the _audacity_ " look and quite good for his confidence).

Aziraphale noticed his scrambling, and for every foot Crowley managed to move back (just where was that damned wall?!), Aziraphale took two steps closer. And then, of course, right as the back of Crowley's hand hit the wall he'd planned to use as leverage to get up without having to wobble unbalanced or show Aziraphale his back, Aziraphale was upon him. Crowley yelped again as Aziraphale grabbed him by the front of his shirt with a single hand and pulled him up until only his toes touched the floor and Aziraphale held all his weight casually, without any strain.

Crowley gurgled a bit in surprise, and no small amount of arousal, at the easy show of strength, only to squeak high-pitched like a kettle to boil when he was flung over to Aziraphale's desk. It didn't hurt, of course it didn't, Aziraphale was always so _careful_ with his angelic strength that Crowley had, apparently, been lulled into the false sense of confidence all the humans around them had been when it concerned Aziraphale, except he had far less reason to be caught up in it! It wasn't that Crowley _forgot_ that Aziraphale was made and molded into a perfect, celestial soldier so much as it was that Crowley completely and utterly forgot the sorts of things that made Aziraphale a warrior could coexist at the same time as all the rest of him and his meticulously cultivated softness.

"Oh." The whisper of realization, and quite a bit of mental recalculation, blew through Crowley the moment he hit the desk, his back laying on sheafs of paper and legs hanging off the edge, his hand was halfway in an ink pot dying two of his clawed fingers black and the other had scratched the varnish.

"Whoopsie…" Crowley muttered to himself, frowning dumbly down at the desk for all of a second before realizing he'd wasted what precious time Aziraphale had given him to elongate their play. But then the space between his legs was filled by a strong, stout body and his elbows were pinned down to the desk, forcing his back to arch just a little to accommodate the angle.

"Indeed," Aziraphale purred, his chest rumbled where it pressed against Crowley's, and Crowley could only shiver in anticipation at all the unspoken promises it, and that tantalizingly intense look on Aziraphale's face, promised.

"But is captived, and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain," Aziraphale recited slowly and meticulously, the low drone of his voice charming the snake in Crowley just enough to not notice Aziraphale had pulled his hands up and transferred both of Crowley's wrists to a single hand, held above his head where the roll top began.

Crowley tugged at Aziraphale's grip on his hands but it didn't budge at all, and his heart started to pound in earnest now as the adrenaline human bodies made so readily flooded his system. It was a fight not to smile up at Aziraphale with a mouth filled with sharp fangs and cutting teeth as Aziraphale's free hand plucked each button free from Crowley's shirt, snapping it off its threads, and piled them delicately in a corner of the desk.

"But am betroth'd unto your enemy; Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I," Aziraphale paused to emphasize his words when Crowley's shirt fell to his sides leaving his chest bare and Aziraphale's heated gaze unhindered. Crowley squirmed at the intensity of Aziraphale's attention and his leather trousers squeaked against the wood of the desk, Crowley flinched at the loud sharpness of the sound and chanced a look up at Aziraphale.

He was smirking, his hand alighted on his skin at the center of Crowley's chest and trailed down teasingly, following the thin trail of hair that disappeared underneath the hem of his trousers. Crowley squirmed again with a breathless noise punched out from his throat as Aziraphale's fingers dipped underneath the waistband and _pulled_ until the leather gave way like butter under a knife.

"Hngk–" Crowley choked.

"Mhmm," Aziraphale hummed in reply and, smirking, finished his recitation, "Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except I ravish thee."

Crowley attempted to reply but what came out, rather than words, was a series of piano key smashes. Aziraphale got the point though.

With that pleased little smirk still on Aziraphale's face, he flipped Crowley over and bent his arms behind his back only to hold them in a single hand again, firmly pressing Crowley down into the desk with that grip. Crowley couldn't help the weak noise that escaped his throat at that, he'd always enjoyed Aziraphale manhandling him but _this_ was something more, something they'd sort of skirted around talking about directly, but Crowley couldn't be happier Aziraphale was confident enough to throw him around like this, literally a bit in the beginning too.

His cock ached, trapped by the ruins of his trousers where they clung to his pants and any attempt to thrust forward at all to get any friction from the desk, but it was just a little too far away and Aziraphale didn't let him budge. _Tsk_ ing through his teeth in reproach, Aziraphale's hand curved up from Crowley's outer thigh to the inside, his fingers pressed firm over covered skin and followed along the seam of his trousers up to the apex of Crowley's thighs.

Crowley moaned at the feeling of Aziraphale fondling along the underside of his balls and then up again to cup his palm around the curve of Crowley's arse. Aziraphale's hand slipped to grab at Crowley's hip to hold him in place while he pushed his own hips against Crowley's backside, the hard length of him grinding against Crowley made him moan again, breathy and panting, overcome with his desire and desperate for Aziraphale to make good on his poem's promises.

"Ravish me," Crowley gasped as Aziraphale held him in place, even as his hips bucked for friction that wasn't there of their own accord, "Please, angel, _please_!"

The hand on Crowley's wrists pulled away and the moment Crowley tried to move them Aziraphale slapped his arse, the leather over them made the sound more shocking than it had necessarily felt. Crowley settled back tentatively, his wrists at the small of his back and he let his cheek fall to the desk, turning just enough to look over his shoulder, catching Aziraphale's eye.

Blessed bastard was still smirking at him! But then Aziraphale's fingers dipped underneath the waistband of his trousers and pants to pull them down only enough to clear the curve of his backside, resting at the very tops of his thighs. Crowley groaned and fought to keep as still as he could manage, the urge to touch himself growing the longer Aziraphale's hands didn't stray to his cock, didn't even bother to let him out! The front of his pants were definitely getting soaked with how utterly wrecked he was already.

A miraculously slick finger pressed into Crowley, ungodly slowly, and Crowley couldn't help the reedy whine that left his throat. His hands were still clawed but over the course of Aziraphale's attention on him, some other scales had popped up, he could feel them along his arms and down his spine, wrapping around his hips all the way to his inner thighs and down to his feet. Thank fuck he didn't wear proper shoes anymore, considering those talons would have destroyed them already. But they made for good leverage, Crowley dug his talons into the floor to shift his weight up onto the balls of his feet and then back towards Aziraphale, greedily fucking himself more on the thick, blunt finger.

Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath and pulled out from Crowley, who barely even managed to make an upset noise in the back of his throat before a second finger plunged back in alongside the first leaving him squirming and moaning and clenching down on Aziraphale, the burn of the sudden, ruthless stretch sparked like embers behind Crowley's eyes. Without missing a beat, Aziraphale pressed down on his prostate, the hand on Crowley's hip kept him from bucking his hips in his desperate arousal and he growled under his breath at that.

Crowley's growl quickly petered out into broken, hitching breaths as Aziraphale scissored his fingers, stretching him further without ever giving him time to fully adjust. The scent of Aziraphale's lust mixing with his own was overpowering and the feel of Aziraphale preparing him so quickly, as if he couldn't wait longer than the bare minimum to get into him, was intoxicating.

The fingers left Crowley feeling empty and bereft, but Aziraphale didn't allow him to rock his hips back any further, even with the claws on his feet dug into the wood of the floor. So he keened instead, a sad sound that rarely ever left him wanting (Aziraphale was a sucker for sad noises), and yelped loudly when Aziraphale smacked his arse again, jolting in surprise.

"What that fu– Angel!" Crowley raised his voice in surprise, eyes wide and staring back at Aziraphale over his shoulder. Aziraphale only raised his eyebrow back at him and slipped his braces off his shoulders, Crowley's mouth went dry and Aziraphale's trousers fell, just a little, with the motion. Carefully, still unable to keep his eyes off Aziraphale, Crowley settled back down onto his heels and shifted his stance for a better center of gravity. For a brief moment Aziraphale's eyes moved off Crowley and angled down towards his trousers, deft fingers unbuttoned the fly and shoved them down. Crowley took Aziraphale's distraction and set his forearms on the desk, pushed up and arched his back with his arse out, all the better to see Aziraphale with.

Which he immediately regretted. "Oh, bless– Aziraphale, _really_? A union suit?!"

Underneath his trousers and, from what Crowley could see, underneath his shirt Aziraphale wore a buttoned union suit in white and light blue stripes and _really_ the angel couldn't get any less appealing. Except his cock twitched at how _buttoned up_ Aziraphale still was and the unshakable feeling that he was debauching Aziraphale in his office at work, bent over the desk as he was.

Aziraphale only gave him a cool look and a serene smile, and unbuttoned exactly as many buttons as he needed to free his thick cock from its confines. Four buttons, Crowley counted, mesmerized by the slow, sensuous way Aziraphale's fingers worked the buttons from the bottom up and only revealed a slight amount of skin. For someone's sake, he hadn't even rolled up his sleeves!

But then Aziraphale stroked himself and the movement pulled Crowley's eyes down and made whatever else he was going to say die on his tongue, leaving him to lick his lips and swallow hard. He shivered, from tip to tail, all the way down his spine as Aziraphale took a half-step forward and slotted their hips together, his cock resting in the valley of Crowley's arse. Aziraphale moved the hand on Crowley's hip down the front of him and splayed across his pelvis without giving any mind to his aching hard-on, holding him in place for Aziraphale to grind against him.

Crowley just watched, eyes half-lidded and lips open, breathing heavily as Aziraphale rut against him for his own pleasure. The slickness of Aziraphale's cock was maddening and it didn't take long until Crowley had to squirm, a desperate attempt to adjust, adjust what he didn't know except he needed _something_ to be different, something to change otherwise he'd go mad.

"Ziraphale, angel," Crowley moaned, "Please, _please_ angel, how much must I have to beg?" Aziraphale groaned in answer and ran a hand up Crowley's back, scrunching up his shirt by his shoulders and moved further up to tangle his fingers in Crowley's hair to pull, forcing Crowley to arch back further, only his hands flat on the desk any more for stability. Aziraphale shifted Crowley with the hand on his pelvis too, so he could only balance on his talons and the balls of his feet once more, rather precarious all that.

"Oh," the bastard angel bastarded bastardly, "just once more, I think."

Well then… Crowley figured he'd really put his back into it if Aziraphale was gonna play like that. He pitched his voice higher and breathy, halfway to a moan, and leaned all of his weight back into Aziraphale to add some more friction between them and arched his neck like the harlot he wished Aizraphale would just fuck him like. "Aziraphale, please, fuck angel, fuck me, please. Ravish me, like you promised, I need your cock. In me, _please, angel, I need you!_ "

Time stopped for all of a second and Crowley only had time to turn his head in Aziraphale's grip to send him a pleading, wrecked-with-lust look he usually saved for moments like these. And then it all surged forward again, Aziraphale slammed him back down onto the desk, bent him in half and in the same swift motion pushed into Crowley leaving him stretched out on Aziraphale's gloriously thick cock and his hands free to _finally_ fish himself out of his trousers.

Crowley gasped loudly, which turned into a wanton moan when Aziraphale moved inside him. Thick hands groped at Crowley's waist and then settled into a bruising grip on his hips, pushing and pulling him onto Aziraphale's cock at a truly reckless speed. And oh _fuck_ Crowley was into it. Aziraphale using him for his pleasure, so overcome with desire for him that he couldn't hold himself back, no matter how much he liked to tease and edge Crowley until he was weeping in ecstasy. Aziraphale was fucking him with wild abandon that Crowley rarely got to see, and it was amazing.

Their moans intermingled and their breathing was sharp and hurried, short, sharp grunts of effort heralded the requiem of their fucking (or lovemaking, _whatever_ , Aziraphale) sounding in their home, in Aziraphale's study. Crowley was speeding towards completion, fucking into his fist with every push and pull of Aziraphale's rhythm, the wet slap of skin and the feeling of lubricant leaking down Crowley's thigh was enough to undo him the moment Aziraphale shifted his hands and dug his fingers into the valley of Crowley's pelvis for a burst of pleasure-pain.

"Angel!" Crowley shouted as he came, spilling hot over his hand and coating the desk beneath him. The way he couldn't help but clench down on Aziraphale in him meant that every thrust was accompanied by the head of Aziraphale's cock pressing over his prostate, milking him for all he was worth.

Just when the over-sensitivity was about to hit and Crowley's head fell down to the desk, pillowed by the hand not on himself and sticky, Aziraphale groaned Crowley's name and a few words in Sumerian, filling Crowley with his seed. A quick miracle and some deft maneuvering had Aziraphale withdrawing and replacing himself with a plug they'd often used on Crowley that tended to be difficult for him to walk with it in, considering how it rubbed inside him with every step.

"Fuck, 'Ziraphale!" Crowley whined and let himself collapse further onto the desk. Aziraphale laughed and spared another miracle to clean them both up and swiftly put himself to rights.

"Oh dear," The bastard said with an angelically innocent grin, "My demon looks rather ravished to me, wouldn't you agree?"

Crowley just mumbled something that could have been a word and smiled when Aziraphale picked him up, cradling him in his arms. He buried his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck and hummed happily at the smell of him there, mingling with his own scent which pleased whatever part inside him that was possessive of Aziraphale. Maybe they'd nap, or Aziraphale would cuddle him on the couch as he read. Yeah, that'd be nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me in a couple of places!
> 
> Twitter: <https://twitter.com/Great_Ass_aFire>  
> Tumblr: <https://d20owlbear.tumblr.com/>
> 
> (Also thank everyone who sent me nice words yesterday on ao3 and twitter, it was very kind of y'all)


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